


Blue Lips, Blue Veins

by TheDragonAndTheHare



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, RMS Titanic, Suspense... hopefully., Time Travel, Who lives? Who dies?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragonAndTheHare/pseuds/TheDragonAndTheHare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The teaser for an upcoming fanfic I have in the works.</p>
<p>Phil and Clint are sent back in time to the Titanic by Loki. The Avengers in present day New York are given four days to figure out a way to rescue them, or else they'll go down with the ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Lips, Blue Veins

Phil doesn’t know how to explain it, stepping from one time to another. He just remembers running through an open doorway with Hawkeye, and as soon as they would have been on the roof, he was tumbling out of a carriage with all of his momentum. His foot was suddenly going down on air and he was somersaulting onto gravel with a grunt.

His head was spinning furiously, and he couldn’t tell if he was face down or face up; he just kept his eyes closed and tried not to vomit. He wasn’t conscious of anything that wasn’t his reeling head. He was afraid to breathe, and to move a single muscle, but it wasn’t long until he was taking a deep, involuntary breath.

Phil coughed as his heart hammered in his chest, as if he’d been sprinting a long way, and continued pulling in air as if he were a near-drowned man.

His sensations slowly came back, and as the dizziness calmed down he could hear the sound of a crowd. The air smelled of salt, and he had definitely face-planted in the gravel. His limbs were weak, but he managed to get himself into an upright position.

Phil covered his eyes, the sunlight too bright as if he had been sitting in a dark room for a while. The first thoughts that made sense ran towards Agent Barton, who had been right by his side when he ran through that door. He couldn’t see him anywhere nearby, and so pressed a finger to the comlink in his ear.

“Agent Barton,” he said. “Agent Barton, report.”

The com was silent in his ear. He took it out, and found that it was dead.

Phil looked around again, this time properly taking in what was around him. The crowd were all dressed in turn-of-the-century clothing – when he looked down to check himself, he found that his own suit had been swapped with one that fit in with the other men walking around him.

He looked behind him, to where the crowd was flocking, and found himself feeling very small indeed. He was sitting in the shadow of a very large ship, one that looked very familiar. His eyes followed the prow of the ship, to the name: **RMS Titanic**.

_Shit_ , Phil thought. _First order of business then: locate Agent Barton._


End file.
